Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 144: Dead..

Two weeks had passed in the forest, and as Lilia moved over the dry branches, she realized something had changed about her. Unlike humans, she didn’t get tired like she used to. She didn’t feel hungry either. It was as if this form gave her all the sustenance she needed to keep going—after all, she was already dead.

Sometimes, she felt incredibly lonely. No wonder this place was called the Land of Boredom. A sigh escaped her lips as she murmured softly,

"Oh, my love... I wonder what you’re doing now... Am I already buried?" She wondered. In fact, if she had the chance, she would say his name once more.

Zethan.

The name forbidden in this land. A name that could not be said.

She had just been saying "love" to call him—and that was enough.

The thought lingered deeply in her mind. Given that she was now in ghost form—already dead—she couldn’t help but wonder if her body had been buried. But wouldn’t she know? Especially when the time came for people to visit her grave and speak to her—those few precious moments when spirits were allowed to listen?

She knew ghosts weren’t supposed to feel emotions. But why... why did her body always feel heavy whenever she thought about Zethan? Why did her heart beat a little faster, even now?

Over the past few days, she had tried her best to piece together what was truly happening.

What puzzled her most was how her older self had ended up here in the Land of the Dead. Everything felt too overwhelming—especially considering she had never believed any of this was real when she was alive. Back when she was human, she used to dismiss stories like these, even when she read about them in books. Vampires, ghosts, spirits—they were all just tales to her. She never imagined she’d actually meet one, let alone marry one. A vampire.

And now... now she was one of them. A ghost. Dead.

And now... she believed in one.

It still didn’t make sense. Her mind felt foggy, as if soaked in cold water—drifting in thoughts she couldn’t fully grasp. The weight of her reality pressed down on her as she wondered how Zethan was doing now. That thought alone ached in her chest, even though she knew ghosts weren’t supposed to feel anything at all. But this place—this dull, lifeless world—was so mind-numbingly boring that sometimes, she thought closing her eyes forever would be better than staying here.

That was the punishment. That was how bad it was.

And yet, she didn’t even understand why she was being punished. even by herself—her own old self. What did the lady mean when she said Lilia would be the next to "do this"? What exactly was this? She couldn’t piece it all together.

Days had passed, and night had fallen once again. As usual, she wandered through the forest of dry, tall, twisted branches. No one else was here. That’s what made it worse. Just the thought of being the only one in an entire world was haunting. The silence. The emptiness. The constant repetition of you, you, and only you. It was the kind of isolation that didn’t just create boredom—it buried you in it.

Her thoughts often drifted back to memories—memories of her and Zethan in the land of the living. Sometimes, she spent hours rewatching them like a movie. That alone calmed her mind, made her smile, laugh, and feel less lonely. One strange thing she noticed was how easily the memories returned. Sometimes she would just sit, close her eyes, and they would come flooding back. Not as hazy recollections or scattered images—but vivid, like a movie playing behind her eyelids. Unlike imagination, which often slips and fades with distractions, these memories were clear. So clear, it almost felt like she was living them again.

And that... was one of the strangest parts of being here. Or rather, being a ghost.

Who would have thought? She would be one? Not her, certainly. If someone were to tell her she would end up a ghost, she would have laughed and giggled at their cute and wild imagination.

Any time she remembered—any time she thought about those memories or watched those moments—something stirred within her. Even though her body remained calm, a tear would still slip silently down her cheek, falling straight onto the grassy earth. Her heart would beat faster, an ache pulling at her chest. And for some unknown reason, those memories kept her busy, as if they haunted her from within—and at the same time, eased her.

She never truly realized it back then, but a lot of what happened had been her fault. And yet, her husband had been so considerate through it all. That truth ached her heart even more. If only she could make things right. If only she could see him again just once, hug him, and thank him for everything he had done.

Then, suddenly, there was a soft glow.

Lilia opened her eyes and turned toward it. The light seemed to open up a space—like a portal to another world. While this place was dark, the world ahead looked bright. And from it, a lady emerged.

But this lady wasn’t the person she had expected. She wasn’t the version of herself she had seen before. This was someone else entirely.

The woman spoke quietly,

"Your punishment is over," she said, reaching out her hand.

"Come with me. You are now fully dead."

Fully dead?

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Lilia wondered.

Her voice was gentle, almost kind. She had golden hair that fell to her shoulders and wore a simple white gown that ended just above her knees, paired with long white boots.

Lilia blinked.

So there were other worlds apart from the land of the living, huh?

She couldn’t stay any longer. If she could go somewhere—anywhere—she wanted it to be a place where she might finally find people or even answers to her curiosity.

With her hair flying to the side, Lilia reached for the woman’s hand. As soon as she touched it, she felt a change. Her body began to shift back to normal—no longer a ghost. Her eyes widened—it was turning back to her human form.

The lady explained,

"You are now in the Land of the Dead. Your body will return to its full form."

Lilia raised an eyebrow, trying to grasp what she meant.

"You almost committed a taboo with one of us," the lady added softly.

"And now... you’ll be meeting the King for trials. You tricked one of us—she is now stripped of her position."

Lilia’s eyes shot open. The King?

There was a King of the Dead?

They walked forward as the glowing portal behind them closed. Lilia’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets at the sight before her. The surprise she felt was intense—part wonder, part shock. How could the Land of the Dead be this beautiful?

Everything seemed so organized, almost ranked. It looked like people were sorted according to the deeds they committed while alive—and how rich they were. Like in a shop, there were three doors: Door One—rich, Door Two—middle class, Door Three—poor. From what she could tell, there must be lots of competition in this world. People walked around like it was a normal world, but she could tell—they were all dead.

She even spotted a young celebrity, one who had died in a tragic crash that broke the internet back in the land of the living. She had been one of the most beautiful and promising young models. And now? She was just a regular person, walking with groceries like any other commoner.

Lilia was stunned.

"You’ll get used to it," the lady said with a small smile.

"This world is like yours, only... different. But if you commit an offense here, you go extinct. Permanently."

Extinct.

"You will forever be forgotten in the real world."

That part unsettled Lilia deeply. She tried not to think too hard about it.

"Come," the woman urged again.

Lilia followed her to a grand castle, the building high, security tight. It was real—majestic, guarded, alive with movement. As they approached, guards shifted aside, their eyes lingering on Lilia for a moment. But she was used to stares. After all, back in the living world, she had been with Zethan. This wasn’t new. Finally, the large door opened.

Inside the throne room, Lilia looked up and saw three people seated on high chairs: a man in his late forties—no denying, the king—a younger man who looked like a prince, and a woman—likely the princess, she guessed.

"Bow to your king," the lady beside her whispered softly, her head bowed.

Lilia frowned and turned toward her.

"He is not my king. I won’t bow."

The hall went dead silent. Even the maids who had been arranging paintings stopped in their tracks.

Lilia’s gaze moved to them. The look on their faces—the king, the prince, even the supposed princess—was one she could read clearly. That cold, pitiful stare. The kind that silently said: This young lady is going to be punished. Severely. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

It was the same kind of look people gave before someone was dragged off to a dungeon, left to rot—or worse. And she knew... that might very well be her fate.

But what truly made her body tremble—what stole the air from her lungs—was not the threat of punishment. It was when her eyes moved.

It was the man kneeling before the king, polishing the majesty’s shoes. He wasn’t just shining them—he was re-golding them, carefully applying shimmering gold with practiced hands.

And that man...

He was no stranger.

He was her father.

Her very own father.

Mr. Winslow...she really was in the land of the dead.